Till Death Do Us Part
by geecoral
Summary: Chapter three: Opie hopes he'll get lucky with Donna on his first night home from prison. Will he? Set in Season 1. Opie returns home from prison, and he and his family are put under strain. This fic goes behind the scenes and fills in the gaps from when Opie is released from prison, up until Donna's death.
1. Opie's Homecoming

_Note: _I have not done any fanfics whatsoever for a few years now (Ya know, when didn't have text or font adjusters), and I am pretty new to Sons of Anarchy (just started Season 2), so bear with me. I don't plan for this fic to go anywhere in particular, except fill in the gaps - in my own little way - between the time when Opie got out of prison, up until Donna's death. Life story aside, I hope you enjoy it.

_Disclaimer: _I do not own the television show 'Sons of Anarchy', any of the characters, settings or motorcycle crews affiliated with it. If I did, I would have made Opie immortal and each episode 24 hours long with a mind controlling device that allows you to zone out of reality until the whole Season is over.

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I could not stand the anticipation much longer.

_Tick… tick…tick. _That's all I could hear; the slow, painful passing by of time. As I watched the clock on the wall of my kitchen, I felt as though each hand had dug its point into my chest and was dragging. Dragging its way across it.

I was agitated. _He _was coming home. After all these years. From prison. Five years he'd been away from normality, from home, from his family. From me. I wondered how he would cope. My mind couldn't even start to imagine what it would be like behind bars, not for one day, let alone five years. I'd witnessed only small glimpses of the inside on my brief and very few visits a month to the prison. It unsettled me each time, to the point I would make any excuse not to attend: "I can't make it this time, honey, Kenny's ill…"; "…the kids have so much unfinished homework…"; "…the car has broken down…"

Lame. All the excuses I'd given him were lame. I knew it, and I knew he knew it too. He'd sigh and say - so quietly, it was just a low murmur - "Okay, baby. I'll see you next time." The phone-line would go dead, and I'd stand, still holding the receiver long after he'd hung up, loose in my hands. The guilt I had felt after each excuse was unbearable. But why? Isn't it _he _who landed himself in jail in the first place? Isn't it _he _who should feel the unimaginable guilt for tearing his family apart?

"Mommy."

My fixated stare flickered from the clock to my son. I softened my tense face muscles and put on a confident smile, masking my agitation. Look how strong motherhood makes a woman. "Yes, Kenny?"

He fiddled with the bottom of his t-shirt, crumpling it up in his hands and wringing it around his finger. He looked unsure, deep in thought. I thought that maybe he didn't want anything in particular; perhaps he called me out to try to divert my attention away from the clock. Retrospectively, I realised staring at a clock for a long period could potentially look quite disturbing, especially to an eight-year-old.

I scooped him up in my arms and rested him on my hip. "Daddy will be here in a minute," I told him reassuringly. But whom was I reassuring the most? Him or myself?

Kenny looked at me blankly. Then, life came to his eyes, as though he was struck with whatever he had been searching for before. "Oh. In a minute?"

I nodded. "In a minute."

"Oh," he said again. He screwed his little face up confusedly. "Daddy?"

I nodded again. "Yes, Kenny. Daddy. That man in those pictures I show you, and the ones around the house."

Kenny had only been three years old when Opie was arrested. His memories of his daddy were practically none. He knew what he looked like, but what he was like, he was yet to discover for himself.

"What are you so confused about, baby?" I asked with puckered brows.

"Daddy is coming here? Home? Our home?"

"Yes, Kenny. I told you that," I said softly.

He gave a little scowl. "Well I didn't believe you those times."

I gave a small chuckle. He was every inch his daddy; had his daddy's scowl, all right, as well as his brown hair and puppy dog eyes. It was hard for me to see such a resemblance every day with Opie locked away. Nevertheless, I never once wished for my son to change any inch, and I never will, not even for the slightest bit of clarity.

The rumble of a deafening engine hit my ears and sparked a painful jolt in my heart. It was approaching, getting louder and louder. And then it stopped outside my house.

He was here. _Opie was here. _The engine of his motorcycle cut out, but the sting of broken silence lingered in its place. The garage door was closed and locked, so I imagined he'd be parked behind my 4x4 on the driveway.

_He was only moments away._

Ellie came running down the stairs, toward Kenny and me. She looked startled, as though she couldn't quite believe he was here. Neither could I. I didn't say anything to her, and she didn't say anything to me, not even when I put my spare arm around her shoulders and we stepped into the middle of the hallway to face the front door.

My heart raced, chest so tight it was painful. One arm was tight around Ellie's shoulders as she leant into me, face half covered by my side. The other held Kenny onto my hip as he half-hid in my chest, fist curled around the collar of my t-shirt. As the doorknob twisted, time came to a sudden halt. I held my breath, light-headed.

Then he was there. Stood tall in the open doorway, head almost touching the top of the doorframe. Grey beanie hat, thick bushy beard, baggy jeans in which hung a chain on the side. Sad, drooped eyes. Nothing had changed - not even his patched jacket.

He saw me eyeing it. He shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. Dropping his eyes to the floor, he mumbled, "They were the only clothes I had." And instantly took it off.

I gave Ellie's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Go give Daddy a hug," I encouraged.

She looked up at me reluctantly, as though she would rather be anywhere else other than here. I couldn't blame her - it was not an ideal situation. However, with another gentle squeeze, she stepped forward and gave her daddy a hug just short of his middle. Opie crouched down and pulled her into a huge embrace. I could only imagine what Ellie's face would be like - uncomfortable, uneasy. She barely knew this man.

As soon as Opie pulled out of the hug, he placed his hands on her arms and took a good look at her. His eyes were watering. I had never taken the children to prison to see him - and Opie agreed that it was best they didn't set foot there, too - so this was his first real look at her since she was five years old. I had sent him picture upon picture of the children's growth, but nothing could compare to seeing how much they had grown for himself.

"Getting a big girl now, aren't ya?" Opie said as soft as his gruff voice would allow him. He picked up one of her plaits between his finger and thumb, and looked at it. "Your hair's gotten real long, too."

Ellie didn't say anything. She wasn't much of a talker around strangers - much like her father - and I knew all the clear discomfort she expressed on her face matched every pang of discomfort Opie felt inside.

Opie looked past Ellie's shoulder and at me, eyes so sad, I could see the heartbreak in them. He had known all this time how difficult it would be to pick up from where he had left off , but I don't think he ever realized just how difficult.

I cleared my throat, and at that, Ellie returned to my side and Opie stood.

I stepped forward with Kenny still on my hip. "Look, Kenny - it's Daddy," I said, trying to encourage him to lift his head from my chest by gently bopping him up and down.

The movement incited Kenny to turn his head outwards a little more, but he didn't lift it. He peaked shyly at Opie, who stood so close to me I could smell his familiar fragrance of dirt and oil. Opie took the opportunity to place his hand on my cheek and stroke it with his rough thumb.

"Hi, baby," he said, in almost a sigh. I couldn't understand why he sighed. Perhaps out of guilt for getting himself arrested, or remorse for missing out on so much.

His touch felt so alien to me, although it should have been so familiar. We'd known each other since we were teenagers - dated since we were 15, even when he moved from Oakland to Charming to get away from his mother at 16. He had driven to see me every weekend and every school break we got from then, up until we were 18 and we wedded, and I moved to Charming to live with him.

"Hi," I finally said, a little too quiet, but I was proud of myself for saying something at least. I gave him a small smile, and then looked at Kenny. "Do you want to go to your daddy?"

Opie opened his arms, nodding. "Yeah, come say hi to Dad."

As I handed Kenny over, he looked at me with wide eyes, as if pleading with me not to leave him with this man. Nevertheless, this man was his daddy, and I had no reason to protect him from him. Not right now, anyway. Opie was crewless.

"You've gotten tall," Opie noted; the classic line someone would say to a child when one could not think of anything else. He placed him down onto the floor after a quick squeeze. He'd probably noticed Kenny's reluctant eyes, although it was impossible not to.

Kenny looked up - way up - at Opie, stood very still for the moment. I couldn't tell what was going on through that little mind of his. But whatever it was, I knew it wasn't positive.

"Why don't you two put on the television?" I suggested to Ellie and Kenny, trying to look at them both supportively, as though I was letting them know I knew how they felt.

The two didn't waste any time getting away, and the low murmur of the television could be heard in a matter of seconds. I knew they were already sat on the floor, right in front of it. I had told them countless times it would give them square eyes, but kids being kids would risk anything to watch their favorite cartoons.

Opie followed me as I walked into the kitchen, like a lost puppy.

"Dinner won't be too much longer," I told him with my back to him while adjusting the heat settings on the stove.

"What do we got?" He asked, and then quickly added, "Not that it matters; anything's better than prison food."

"Steak. My treat."

He was suddenly behind me, arms wrapped around my middle, pulling my back into his body, close. "I love you, Donna," he whispered in my ear. His beard prickled against the side of my neck. "I don't say it often, but I really do.

I shut my eyes. I wanted to melt into him, forgive him, and love him again with every fibre of my being. But I couldn't. I felt numb against him, nauseous, light-headed. I wanted nothing more than for him to go back to prison and for them to throw away the key, forever and ever…

_I'm an awful person. He's my husband; I vowed to love him, for better or for worse, 'till death do us part…_

Sucking in a big breath, I said slowly:

"I love you too."

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**I love reviews. They are like ammunition to me - the more reviews I get, the more I will write. I have chapter 2 all ready and waiting to be posted, so if you liked this chapter, tell me so. If you didn't, also tell me so. If you have any ideas, suggestions or anything in particular you would like me to include, I am open to them all.**

**Much thanks.**


	2. Bath Time, Pokémon and Soap Operas

_Opie's POV_

Kenny was a lot more forgiving than Ellie was.

Dinner-time was a drag. I tried my best to ask the right questions. Nothing seemed to be good enough, though. I was never good at communicating in the first place, and five years in prison definitely didn't improve the matter.

I cracked through Kenny's barrier as soon as I asked him about his favorite cartoons. He was trusting and forgiving, like Donna. But Ellie had inherited the steel wall around her thoughts and emotions from me and Dad - and as much as I knew Dad and myself, nothing could break that wall. She barely answered any of my questions, about school, about friends, about what she liked to do. I didn't know why I even bothered - Donna had already told me everything in her monthly letters.

Donna suggested I should give Kenny a bath. So I did. I got the impression she was trying to do as much as possible to get me out of her sight for a while, but maybe I was just being paranoid. If she didn't want me around, she would have left by now.

Kenny jabbered on and on about some video game he liked. It had a weird name, and all the animals in it had weird names.

"And then there's Torchic, who is my favorite, and he is like a baby chick, but he's orange and can do fire stuff…"

I stared at him, holding the jug of water in mid air. Then I dunked it on his head to wash out the shampoo. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head violently, water splashing all over the bathroom - and me.

"Whoa, watch it, Ken." I raised my arm to try and shield myself from the water. Not like I wasn't drenched enough as it was…

"It's in my eyes!" He squealed, flapping around.

I threw a towel at him, feeling hot under the collar. "Wipe them, then."

He wiped his face quickly then looked at me with already bloodshot eyes from the shampoo that went in them. _Oh shit_. "You really did get some in there, didn't ya?" I said lightly, trying to make a joke out of it. At least it made me feel a bit better for getting mad - shampoo stings like a bitch.

Kenny nodded, quieter now than he was before. Maybe he thought I was mad at him.

"So what's this Torchkick you were talking to me about? Sounds like a ginger chicken, if you ask me." I tried to cheer him up by distracting him. It worked well. Of course it did - he's a guy.

He started laughing. "No, Daddy, it's not a ginger chicken. It's called Torchic, and it can do fire stuff. But if you choose it, you have to be careful, because my rival will choose the water one, and that means it can easily beat you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little too young to have rivals?"

"Nope. I have lots and lots of rivals, everywhere."

"How did you get so many rivals at your age?"

He gave a shrug. "I don't even know what it means."

I grunted. He was a funny kid. Naïve, that was for sure. I didn't know if it was to do with his age, or whether that was just who he was.

He began jabbering about another game this time. At least, I think it was - I couldn't talk that long about one subject, and I was too busy trying to dry him and the soaking bathroom to really listen. I don't think I even said anything in response, but fuck, that didn't seem to put him off talking.

As soon as I dressed Kenny and towel-dried his hair (causing him to complain over and over that I was being 'too rough'), I tucked him into bed and said goodnight, then went downstairs to tell Donna.

Donna looked up at me from the sofa, her arm around Ellie. She nodded. "Thanks, Opie." She looked at Ellie and asked her quietly, "Will you be ok down here?"

I don't think I was supposed to hear, so I pretended I didn't as I sat down in my armchair. My nice, comfy armchair. At least my armchair didn't need to be asked a bunch of meaningless questions in order for me to get into it.

Ellie must have given Donna the all-clear, because she went upstairs and Ellie stayed put on the couch in her pink pajamas and fluffy slippers. I looked over at her while she bowed her head and fiddled with a pink bow holding her plait together at the bottom.

I lit a much needed cigarette and looked over at Ellie. She looked so much like my mom, it was unbelievable. "Don't you ever take those plaits out?" I asked her.

My sudden question didn't stir her. She didn't lift her head, but said quietly, "Sometimes."

"Bet it's real long."

She simply nodded. Nothing more.

_Damn kids. _

"Bet it goes all curly and stuff," I pushed on, like a wounded solider on the front line. That was probably less work.

_Well, no one can say I didn't try. _

"It goes wavy," she corrected me.

"Ah."

Silence. Donna came down the stairs, much quieter than I ever could; I seemed to make a drum solo every time I came down them. I looked at her. "Ellie was just telling me her hair goes all wavy when those plaits get taken out. Weren't you, Ellie?"

Ellie said nothing. I felt a sudden urge to shake her like a doll and yell, "I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY, OK?!"

Donna sat herself beside Ellie and pulled her into a hug. Ellie responded and cuddled into her chest. I wished I could do that, and I couldn't wait till later when Donna and I could settle into bed together. Have some alone time for the first time.

"It sure does go all wavy," Donna said. "It's absolutely adorable."

Ellie smiled shyly, cheeks going a little pink. Donna's did that whenever I used to tell her how beautiful she was, or how much I loved her. It was rare that I did, but I figured it would make it special when I did say it. Unless that was my justification for not saying it often. Who knows?

I figured it was going to be a while until Donna and I would get to be alone when she turned the volume up on the television to watch some Soap Opera. I hated Soap Operas and couldn't understand why anyone would want to watch depressing plot lines and cheesy affairs between every character in one place.

"I need to put my bike in the garage," I said while standing.

Donna looked up at me. There was some look in her eyes, but I couldn't make out what it was. Longing? Maybe she didn't want me to go; maybe she _wanted _me.

I wanted to slap myself. _Stupid male brain. Of course she didn't want to fuck me right then. A nod of her head confirmed that, and I felt a pang of disappointment, despite the stupidity of it. _

"_Ok," she said, then turned back to the television. _

_Whatever she had thought at that moment was now gone. I picked up the key from the hook and unlocked the garage door, all the while wondering how the fuck I was supposed to get myself out the deep shit I was already in._


	3. Not Tonight

**Note: **This chapter contains some strong language and sexual references. But isn't that what makes up most of the SOA one-liners?

**Disclaimer: **Again, I own nothing.

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When Opie returned from the garage, it was two hours later and the downstairs was dark. Being in prison for so long, hours dragged by without any meaning, so it was almost too easy for him to lose track of time. He knew without any doubt it was going to take him a while to grasp the concept of time all over again, almost like a child who had spent the best part of an hour attempting to tell the time in class, only to go home and realize that they have forgotten everything they have learnt while attempting their homework.

He climbed the stairs as quietly as he could. He had forgotten where all the creaks and groans were in the floorboards, so his plan of being silent had come to nought. The house seemed to snooze along with the sleepy atmosphere. Kenny's light snoring could be heard through his open door, so Opie closed it. He didn't want any interruptions tonight. Ellie had school in the morning, so she would be fast asleep by now. Whether Donna was or wasn't, he was yet to discover.

She was sat up in bed. The lamp on her bedside table was switched on. She was awake, reading. Opie gave her a nod as he entered the room, a substitute for a smile that he so wanted to force. But he couldn't. He wasn't much of a smiler to begin with, and with the intensity of the way Donna was looking at him made him think he was in trouble for staying out so long.

_Old habits never die hard._

Donna's heart had given a painful jump as Opie opened the door. It was a shock to see him walk in, after all this time. She watched him with unintentionally wider eyes than usual, which watched him as he stripped down to his briefs. He had bulked up while in prison, Donna mentally noted. Then again, what else could anyone do while locked away, other than play cards and work out? Chillingly, the critical voice in her mind added: _And beat the crap outta people._

"What're you looking at?" Opie asked, now managing a grin. She was staring at his body. _Thank fuck I'm not in trouble…_

A small jerk of her head snapped her out of the mental images of Opie's fists pounding in to some battered and bleeding man. At the realization she was staring at him, she quickly looked down at her book, but she knew it was too late.

"Sorry," she apologized, then admitted, "I was thinking about something."

This sparked his interest. He sat himself down at the end of the bed and placed his big hand on her quilted leg. His thumb stroked back and forth along a small patch where it rested, so heavy that Donna could feel it as though there were no quilt there.

"What were you thinking about?" Opie asked amusedly, expecting her to say something provocative. _Your dick…_He imagined her whisper while licking her lips. _I was thinking about your dick deep inside of me…_

Donna set her book down on the beside table after slipping a bookmark into it, unaware of the profanities her husband was imagining in his deprived mind. With a sigh, she asked, "Did you hurt anyone while in prison?"

He blinked, taken aback. He had not expected her to ask that. "No. 'Course not. I kept myself to myself. That's why I got let out early."

His wife nodded, looking down at the wedding band she had taken to fiddling with. "I'm sorry," she apologized again. "It's hard for me to-"

"Get your head around everything?" He finished for her. "Yeah, I know. It's weird for me to be back. Bet it's more weird having me back."

Donna looked up at him. She seemed grateful, and nodded. "I thought I was ready to have you back, but…" She couldn't find the right words without hurting him. "You're right. It's weird."

"But we'll work through it, Donna. Won't we?"

"Rome wasn't built in a day. We'll get there, eventually."

Opie knew then he would not be getting any sex that night. Or maybe any night any time soon. He got up and climbed under the sheets beside his wife. The mattress was still comfy and the springs were still in tact. He could tell his back would be more than grateful for it in the morning.

Donna settled down, resting her head against her pillow. She turned on her side to face her husband. "I have work tomorrow. You'll be ok here alone?"

"Baby, I've been on my own for five years," Opie reminded her, arms behind his head.

She nodded. "Sure. The kids won't be back until half five, so you have until then to do…whatever."

"Why half five?" He frowned.

"That's when I pick them up from daycare."

"Why don't I start picking them up from school instead? Ya know, until I get a job."

She looked at him, surprised. _This is new. _"Sure. If you want."

And so it would be.

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**Sorry about the chapters being so short. I don't like to write really long chapters, mainly because I don't like to read really long chapters. Just wanted to thank those who have reviewed - and if any of you want to see anything in particular or want me to include anything in particular, go ahead and post your ideas. I'd love to hear them.**


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